


Arachnophobia

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, I have no regrets, M/M, cas is a professor, dean's a teacher, these are mostly irrelevant details though, this is indulgent and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - complete.</p><p>There's a giant spider in Dean's shower.  Luckily, Cas might have a fascination with spiders.<br/>AKA The one in which Cas helps Dean to face more than one of his fears.</p><p>Inspired by this prompt from tumblr (link in fic notes):<br/>"this is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we’ve ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me” au"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arachnophobia

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this tumblr post.](http://bisexualclarke.tumblr.com/post/110467148603/here-have-some-aus-as-if-there-arent-enough-on)

“Holy shit fuck!”

Dean stumbled frantically out of the shower of his apartment, slipping on the slick floor and tearing away the shower curtain in his panic. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black object, all legs, scuttle forward on the shower wall, quickly eating up the distance that kept it from Dean. He bit out another curse and grappled for the doorknob, only just remembering to tug away the towel hanging from a hook, before bursting out of the room and slamming the door behind him. 

He had one destination in mind: out. He sped toward the apartment door, tripping over shoes and his discarded jacket and clumsily wrapping the towel around his hips. He held the two ends together with one hand before yanking the door open.

It was only when he was safely ensconced in the early morning stillness of his floor’s hallway that he realized several important things: 1) He, a 32-year-old man, had just run from a spider, 2) He was currently in the hallway outside of his apartment, clothed in only a towel, because he had just run from a spider, 3) The towel was a Batman towel, and 4) He was not alone in the hallway.

Dean, bent over and breathing hard in the aftermath of his mad escape, raised his head to meet the eyes of his neighbor. Castiel Novak was at his open door, and seemed to have been interrupted in the middle of showing somebody out. His eyes narrowed in confusion as they dragged across Dean’s state of undress. 

Dean waited for him to comment, but it was his guest who opened his mouth first.

“Holy naked neighbor, Batman!” He winked at Dean, then turned to Cas again. “Does this happen often?” The man had a long face and a wicked glint in his eye. The expression wasn’t entirely unfriendly, but Dean found himself bristling anyhow. “Because if so, I understand why you don’t want to move out.”

“Gabriel.” Cas’s tone was dry, his expression unamused. “Weren’t you leaving?”

“Oh, I see,” Gabriel said, giving Cas an exaggerated wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair.” He tipped an imaginary hat at Dean before saying, “Have a good day, Cas’s hot neighbor!”

Both Dean and Cas watched Gabriel walk away and turn the corner. When Cas turned back to Dean, he looked apologetic. “Dean. I’m sorry about him.”

Dean swiped a few stray water droplets from his face, still hyper aware of his unfortunate lack of clothing. He straightened slowly. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sorry about barging in - or out - or - you know.”

Cas’s eyes took in the Batman logo on Dean’s towel. “Yes,” he said simply, “I did wonder. But perhaps it’s a private matter?”

“No. No, no, no,” Dean rushed to correct him. He opened his mouth to explain about the spider in his shower, but stopped himself, suddenly aware that he was about to admit to his hot, intelligent neighbor that he stumbled naked from his bathroom in his panic to get away from an insect. 

Cas tilted his head at Dean’s sudden silence. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable doing so, Dean,” he said earnestly, and God, Dean’s long-standing attraction to him increased tenfold with that statement.

“No,” Dean repeated - because what Dean actually wanted to do was talk to Cas some more. “I just - there was a - spider in the shower.” Not that talking to Cas, especially about this, was easy. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to smile. “Creepy fuckers.”

When he opened his eyes to chance a glance at Cas, he was greeted by wide, sympathetic blue eyes. “Arachnophobia is extremely common, Dean; you don’t have to be ashamed.”

Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, warmth blooming in his stomach. “Thanks, Cas,” he said. 

They smiled at each other for a few seconds, quiet in the comfortable hallway. It was then that he became aware he was still dripping water onto the floor. He looked down to see himself standing in a puddle. “Uh.” He met Cas’s gaze. “I’ll see you later.” He stepped forward to grasp the doorknob, but suddenly remembered why he was out in the hallway in the first place. He stopped short. 

Cas was still watching him, amused but sympathetic. 

Dean laughed with false bravado, too loud in the hallway. “Gotta conquer my fear sometime, huh?” He tried again, reaching for the doorknob. He took a few seconds to gather himself, and was just about to turn the knob when he felt Cas’s presence at his side. 

Cas, standing very close, nudged Dean’s hand away from the doorknob. His touch was gentle, but insistent. “I have a sister who frequently needed saving from various creatures when we were children. And I actually find spiders fascinating, so retrieving the spider for you is actually more selfish than it appears.”

Dean stared, but didn’t object. Cas smiled, just a tiny upward quirk of his lips, before entering Dean’s apartment.

Dean didn’t even have time to feel self conscious about the state of his apartment before Cas, barefoot and in pajama bottoms, padded his way to the bathroom door. “Is it trapped in here?” he asked. 

Dean nodded numbly, still speechless.

Cas offered Dean an encouraging smile before opening the door and gingerly entering the bathroom, his eyes already scanning the walls. He shut the door behind him.

Dean released the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. He looked at the state of his apartment and breathed a curse. The first time he had an attractive person over in months, and his place was fit only for miserable pizza nights and re-runs of Dr. Sexy over piles of grading. 

He sighed and went to put some clothes on.

Dean took far longer than he wanted to admit choosing an outfit. It wasn’t that he was nervous, per se - but it wasn’t everyday that Dean had his super hot scholar neighbor so near his bedroom door. He didn’t actually believe anything would happen - Dean knew exactly the way the world worked, and Dean dating a person like Cas was just not a thing that the world ever allowed - but it wouldn’t hurt to look good when Cas inevitably walked out the door and Dean was left alone with his whiskey bottles. 

In the end, he chose a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that had seen better days but fit great around his backside. 

When he strode out of his bedroom, he was feeling pretty okay about the situation -

Until he caught sight of Cas, standing in his living room, holding a broom and an empty box. He was frowning. “It got loose.”

It only took those three words for Dean to scramble toward the couch and stand on it. It was extremely undignified, but his heart was threatening to beat out of his throat and he found in that moment that he cared little about his dignity. He crossed his arms nervously and sent a panicked look toward Cas, who winced.

“I apologize; I was much smaller when I was a child,” Cas explained. “As it is, the wolf spider in your apartment is considerably more agile than I am as an adult.”

Dean was horrified by the word. “A wolf spider?”

“It’s not an aggressive species,” Cas was quick to amend.

“Fuck, Cas - wolves belong in the fucking wild, what is this thing doing in my apartment?”

“Sometimes wolves wander into populated areas… I assume it’s the same with the spider variety.” Cas swept his eyes over the ground, presumably looking for the spider. “You can stay there if you want,” he said, already distracted. He moved away slowly.

“Like I would want to move?” Dean muttered mutinously. He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this is happening.” The spider he had seen in the shower had easily been the size of his palm, all hairy and brown and grey with its spindly legs and tiny, all-seeing eyes. It had scuttled across the wall in front of him at a speed that should have been far too fast for a spider of its size - and if his heart hadn’t stopped for the ten seconds it had taken him to hightail it out of the room, he would have screamed. 

Just thinking of the spider crawling all over his apartment… Dean quickly dragged his eyes over the couch he was standing on. He didn’t see anything, but…

“Cas,” he said, a tad bit breathlessly. “Cas.”

Cas looked up from where he was peeking behind a bookshelf with a pilfered flashlight. “Did you find it?”

“No - but can you - can you distract me? Talk to me or something, I dunno.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, far too sincerely for Dean’s heart. He resumed his search behind the bookshelf. “Have you always experienced this phobia?”

“Are you kidding me, man? Do you not know what a ‘distraction’ is?”

Cas turned blue eyes on Dean, looking a little cowed. “I apologize; I was simply curious about you.” He ducked down to look under a side table, seemingly unconcerned that he had just rendered Dean speechless. 

Dean licked his lips. He uncrossed his arms and settled gingerly on the couch, pulling his legs up onto the cushions and crossing them. He softened his tone when he responded. “I, uh - I’ve always been scared of them. I dunno why - I mean, I had a rough childhood and it would make more sense for me to be scared of other things, but it - it just is, you know? It’s silly.”

Cas, who had been surveying the ceiling, looked sharply at Dean. “I thought we established that phobias are anything but silly?” He directed his attention back to his search, but not before he said, more gently, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

A silence passed as Dean felt the tips of his ears grow warm. He fidgeted from his spot on the couch. Cas was wandering the apartment, peeking into nooks and getting on his hands and knees to look underneath furniture. He was barefoot and wearing flannel pajama pants, as if when Dean encountered him in the hallway, he had just woken up. His faded t-shirt, while not loose, was stretched along the collar. His hair was uncombed.

Seeing him like this was a novelty for Dean; usually he saw Cas when the other man was leaving for or arriving from work at the university, and he was always dressed smartly in a button-down and tie. Cas in worn t-shirts and pajamas was both less and more intimidating than Cas in a suit - less intimidating because the pajamas lent a softer, more approachable air to the man, and more because it made Dean’s stomach do somersaults it hadn’t been able to do since he was in college. 

He swallowed hard, realizing that there was no earthly way things could go back to normal after this. Their routine as neighbors might stay the same, but Dean’s feelings were a different issue altogether because now he knew he could very much live like this: Cas stalking their apartment in his pajamas, searching for spiders, chatting about his day.

Dean watched, torn, as Cas slowed his search, distracted by the pictures on Dean’s desk. His throat went dry when he saw the way Cas gently touched a few long fingers to the frame that held a portrait of Mary, Dean’s mom, as if in greeting. Dean wanted to immortalize the moment - memorize the small smile that graced Cas’s lips, the picture he made standing in the early morning light against Dean’s living room window.

Cas moved on, and Dean barely had a second to mourn before Cas stilled, staring at something on the desk.

Dean’s throat tightened, but for a different reason. “Is it - did you find it?”

“N-no,” Cas said. He motioned stiffly to a card displayed upright on Dean’s desk, right next to Mary’s picture. 

“Oh,” Dean said, laughing a little. “Yeah, I found it taped to my door on Valentine’s Day. I don’t know who it’s from, but it made my day. Haven’t gotten a real valentine in forever.”

Cas picked it up. The card was modestly decorated in white and shades of blue, with a simple greeting of “Thinking of You on This Special Day,” etched across its front; it wasn’t ostentatious or gag-inducing, which is one of the reasons Dean felt inclined to keep it. The biggest reason, however, was what was written inside in a thin, loopy scrawl. Cas read it aloud in a soft voice, making Dean smile, both at him and at the memory. “I saw you the other day and realized I have not gone a day since we met without thinking of you and how you’re doing. You have often been the only redeeming part of my day, and I hope you know how wonderful you are.”

It sounded even better in Cas’s voice. Dean grinned at him, though he really wanted to turn and hide in the couch cushions. “I still got it, I guess.”

Cas replaced the card with a furrowed brow. He turned to Dean on his spot on the couch, looking determined. He opened his mouth - then froze. “Don’t move,” he ordered, his gaze fixed on a spot a few feet to the right of Dean’s shoulder.

Dean stiffened, imagining the spider scuttling over the back of the couch and onto Dean’s shoulder and into Dean’s hair and over his face -

“Relax, Dean. You’ll be fine.” Cas’s voice was like a balm to Dean’s frayed nerves. He took a deep breath.

Cas inched forward toward the spider’s location, holding the empty box in one hand and reaching out with the other. The spider was closer than Dean thought, apparently, because suddenly Dean had Cas’s torso only a foot from his face as Cas leaned in to guide the spider into the box. Cas smelled faintly of soap and aftershave, earthy and sharp. Dean’s hands itched to touch the fabric of his t-shirt, imagined it to be soft against the pads of his fingers, imagined he could feel the warmth of Cas’s skin against his palm. 

The thought was enough to distract; suddenly Cas was drawing back, holding a closed box against his torso. He was smiling at Dean.

“We did it.”

Dean smiled. “ _You_ did it, Cas.”

“No. I may have captured the spider, but you accomplished something too, by facing your fear.”

Dean flushed, fidgeting on his seat on the couch. “I just trusted you, Cas.”

Cas’s smile was bashful. “Thank you for trusting me.” He looked at the box. “I think I’ll bring this to my apartment - when Gabe returns with my car I’ll release the spider somewhere it can terrorize actual prey.”

He moved to step past Dean, but Dean stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Wait.”

Cas’s eyes were very blue up close. Dean forced himself to tear his gaze away. 

He nodded toward the box. “Can I - Can I see it? I’m not gonna touch it or anything but maybe - ”

Cas’s lips parted in surprise. “Of course,” he murmured. Slowly, he unfolded the flaps of the box, keeping one hand on the one closest to Dean in case the spider tried to escape. He lowered it so that Dean could see over the sides.

Dean peeked inside, clutching his knees tightly. The spider was crouched in a corner of the box, still grey and brown, still hairy, still creepy - but docile and relaxed. It waved its two front legs lazily as if in greeting. Its eyes were black and unblinking but instead of being frightened, Dean might have been a little fascinated. He smiled. “Weird little guy, isn’t he?”

He looked up to see Cas’s reaction, wanted to see the smile on his face - but Cas’s eyes were fierce, dancing with something unnameable. He barely had time to raise his eyebrows before Cas was leaning down. 

The kiss was hardly a kiss - Cas just gently pressed his lips against Dean’s for a few seconds, soft and unhurried - but Dean understood almost immediately, while Cas straightened and marched out of the apartment, casual as you please, that he was ruined for anybody else. Face flaming, he stared at the door, which Cas had just closed behind him. 

He stayed in the same position on the couch, trying to calm his breathing, while he listened to the shuffling in Cas’s apartment. There were a few thumps against the wall, as if he were rearranging things. Finally, there was silence. Cas’s door opened and closed, and then suddenly Dean’s door was open and Cas was crossing the room, hesitant.

He stopped when he was in front of Dean. “I’m sorry,” were his first words. His voice was strangled and his eyes were trained on the floor. “I should not have done that; it was uncalled for and inappropriate and I - I apologize sincerely for straining our - friendship.”

Dean stared up at him, mouth open and still sitting cross-legged on the couch. “No - “

The word made Cas flinch; he looked at Dean with wide, hurt eyes.

It was immediately obvious to Dean he had said something wrong. Quickly, he reached out and took Cas’s hand, limp at the man’s side. “No,” he repeated, “You don’t need to apologize. I’m - I didn’t mind. I - don’t - mind.”

A high flush rose in Cas’s cheeks. Dean watched in unconcealed fascination as Cas licked his lips nervously. The hand in Dean’s twitched; Cas opened his mouth. “I sent the card,” he said in one quick exhalation. Then, taking one deep breath, he went on. “I’ve admired you for a long time, Dean, and I didn’t think I would ever get the opportunity to - to get to know you - so I sent you the card, because I wanted you to know… How wonderful you are. Even if you never knew it was from me.”

“Holy shit. Cas.” Dean didn’t know what to say. He was sitting in his apartment after being saved from a spider by a handsome genius college professor, who had just admitted to “admiring” Dean for a “long time.” He admired Dean - Dean who was a kindergarten teacher with an alcoholic father, a secret stash of whiskey under his bed, and a rash of ill-advised flings with co-eds far far in his history and little else in regards to his romantic life since. “I’m - how are you real?”

Cas looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Cas, I’m the type of person who will run out of his apartment wearing nothing but a Batman towel and almost pee his pants because of a fucking insect - “

“It’s an arachnid,” Cas pointed out.

“And you’re the type of person who knows what an arachnid is - and you’re the one who admires me?”

Cas still looked confused. “Dean, you spend your days teaching children and your free time volunteering at the fire station; you do handiwork and simple car repairs for the tenants of our building, and it is even more obvious by the pictures on your desk that you are capable of great love for people. Everybody who knows you admires you - why would I be an exception?”

Dean’s cheeks burned. “I - I don’t do that shit for admiration or anything, Cas,” he argued, his voice cracking. 

“I know; the more I admire you for it.” 

Dean laughed, though out of nerves more than any true amusement. He was still clutching Cas’s hand. He examined it with damp eyes, noting minuscule scars and rough calluses, instances of imperfections of a great man. He refused to look into Cas’s eyes and see pity for poor Dean who didn’t know how to value himself, to see the imperfections in himself and recognize their role.

But Cas didn’t push it. Instead, he tugged Dean by the hand, urging Dean to stand up. Dean stood, moving forward into Cas’s space, wanting the other man pressed close against him - but Cas placed a hand on Dean’s chest, stopping him. “You’re amazing,” he murmured softly. In his eyes wasn’t pity, but patience. His hand slipped away.

Dean caught it back up in one of his own. He exhaled shakily as he moved forward to press his forehead into Cas’s neck. Cas’s free arm tightened around him. He felt lips on his hair and wishes of happiness in his ear.

It was a few minutes, but Dean eventually sighed and laid a kiss on the loose collar of Cas’s t-shirt. He whispered to Cas, “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> For all of us still learning how to value ourselves. Cas loves you, and so do I!


End file.
